


Bring Him Home (A Carrie Fisher Tribute)

by Zenna_Crell47



Series: Old FanFictions [9]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Carrie Fisher Tribute, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Gen, In Memory of Carrie Fisher, Kylo has no real role in this story, Kylo is more or less just mentioned, Not Canon Compliant, Oneshot, exploring the inner mind, force dream, processing Leia's death, written in catharsis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 19:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17534870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenna_Crell47/pseuds/Zenna_Crell47
Summary: At the same moment there is unrest in the Galaxy, you realize that there is more to the universe than you ever dreamed was possible. Especially when you learn that you're connected to some important players in the grand stage...Written in memory of our beloved Carrie Fisher. Thanks for everything, Sassy Space Mom.Part of a collection of stories I've written and originally posted on other sites. Formats have been changed to suit my current style of writing, but the content remains otherwise unchanged.This one was originally posted January 6, 2017 on deviantART.





	Bring Him Home (A Carrie Fisher Tribute)

**Author's Note:**

> In Loving Memory of Carrie Fisher   
> 1956 – 2016

Quite suddenly, you felt as if you could no longer breathe. Placing a heavy hand over your heart, you stumbled back into the closest wall and closed your eyes, a deep frown marring your features.  
  
It was as if a bright light in the universe – one that had been sputtering briefly recently – had quietly gone out.  
  
Biting back tears, you struggled to find your breath and fought to control the tide of emotion. And all around you, the world continued to move, unceasingly. You wondered for a second if you hadn’t just had a mini heart attack, but no… This is was something much more, something much worse.  
  
You shakily got back to your feet – when had you sunk to the ground? – and dusted yourself off. You knew something bad had happened, but where this knowledge came from, and what exactly it was escaped you. On wobbly legs, you returned to your home and locked yourself away. The thought of being around others, those who were blissfully unaware of this great, unknown tragedy that threatened to suffocate you, became repulsive and unmanageable.   
  
For years now, ever since you could remember, you had struggled with an over-sensitivity to, well, everything around you. You could recall times as a little girl when you could read the emotions of your parents and friends. And a certain time, when you were barely more than a child and on the cusp of becoming a teenager, you had felt such a harrowing darkness in your soul that had threatened to consume you… That was when the nightmares had begun. And that first one had been the worst – a monster swathed in darkness, destroying the lives of a very select group of people with a fiery, death stick of doom on a stormy night…   
  
And you were able to sense things before they happened, big or small. The worst had been when the First Order’s StarKiller had destroyed the Hosnian system, and with it the New Republic. So much despair had overcome you, you hadn’t left your home for almost a month. In fact, it was only recently that you had been able to leave your home for any length of time before the pressure of everything around you.  
  
The only thing that served to calm you when you were at your most despairing was an almost ritualistic meditation. You couldn’t remember if it had been something someone had recommended it to you, or if you had read about it somewhere, but the peace the meditation gave you wiped away all concerns of its origin.  
  
Taking slow, even breaths and quietly draining your thoughts from the fore, you gradually relaxed and allowed the peace to wash over your aching soul. The ache had begun at the same time as the nightmares, but it seemed to resonate more deeply over the past few years, and especially recent times. Meditation didn’t erase the ache, nor did it take the pain away, but it did center your mind and set you back on your path. Some part of you whispered that if you truly set out and sought to understand, there would be something – someone – waiting for you… But that had never interested you much, before. Now? Well, now you had something to find, something worth understanding.  
  
Between sessions of deep meditation, you would get up, stretch, walk about your home, nibble on something and refresh yourself, then return to your soul-searching. This was the hardest, longest you had ever meditated before, and it felt… good, oddly enough. Even though your legs would cramp and your body would protest upon regaining your feet, your mind felt calmer than ever, and somehow it all felt right.   
  
You meditated all the rest of the day and partially into the night, finally deciding to halt when you felt your bones readjusting once you got up for dinner. It was disappointing, especially since you sensed some kind of breakthrough lingering just out of reach, but you resolved that ignoring your body at this time would be more to your detriment than a necessary sacrifice.  
  
Therefore, it came as something of a shock when the clouds of nothingness invaded your dreams that night. Your meditations had continued in your subconscious, and now you could delve into them more deeply.  
  
Wandering in the depths of your mind was both insightful and somewhat eerie. Your fears lingered in the shadows; your worries danced at the edges of sight; your concerns and anxieties leaped in and out of view. Half-formed ideas and dreams scattered like puzzle pieces upon approach, and conscious thought eluded you like water through a sieve. Still, that promise of enlightenment and understanding beckoned you forward.  
  
Memories and previous impressions hung like glass bubbles in the air the farther you delved. Good ones, bad ones, all the ones in between: all had a presence there. And still, this was not what you were looking for.   
  
It wasn’t until you reached something like a door – an old fashioned, rustic, wooden door – that you felt like you had come close. Hesitation filled you, the darkness and confusion you felt beyond the door filling you with trepidation… But you hadn’t come this far just to leave empty handed. With a sort of grim determination, you pushed on, closing the door behind you – just in case.  
  
What was in the room was beyond beautiful, and terrible.   
  
The walls were all alight with glittering, golden threads that all connected in some way, stretching far into the air above your head, the ceiling endless. The room thrummed with life… But the thin, dark strand of ivy – stretched taut like a rubberband – in the center of the room did not. It hung by itself in the very center, staining the ground immediately around it a deep, sooty black. The vine itself didn’t seem to conclude its color, either, what with it being black in areas, and reds and blues and a deep purple everywhere else. This confused you, because it didn’t exactly feel like you. With its presence, you understood it to be part of you, but it didn’t feel solely like yourself…   
  
“That’ll be your connection with my son you’re sensing.”  
  
Startled, you glanced away from the cruel beauty of the vine to stare at the strange woman who stood close by. Your initial instinct was to panic and reject her presence, but something immediately stopped you and forced you to consider her more… Ah, this is what you were looking for.  
  
“… Your son?” you wondered softly. “But I don’t think I’ve ever met him, let alone you, ma’am. I don’t understand.”  
  
She smiled kindly, stepping forward to put a kind hand on your shoulder and draw you away from the suffering connection to help guide your attentions. “The Force is as mysterious and confusing as it is present in all things. I never became truly attuned to it – didn’t have the knack for it that my brother does – but I did pick up a few things. And from what I can tell, for some reason, the Force has chosen you to be connected to my son, Ben…” She paused, her eyes far away for a long moment, before squeezing you a bit and smiling again. This one may have reached her eyes, but it was all so, so sad.  
  
“He’s always been a troubled boy – as I’m sure you’ve felt over the years – but it has gotten worse. There’s still good in him, I know it. And you can see it in that connection, over there. Now that I’m gone, my dear, you are my last, strongest hope that he can return to the Light, that he can become the man he was always meant to be.”  
  
Flabbergasted and befuddled, you frowned and pulled back slightly. “… What do you mean?”  
  
She snorted and half smiled, half smirked. “I’m dead, sweetheart. You sensed it happen earlier. And since my son won’t see me – probably can’t see me, now that I think on it – you’re the only option I have left to reach out to him. I never had the strength to become a firmer presence in the Force, but since our abilities are so much alike, I think the Force will have a loophole every now and then for things like this.”  
  
Your frown deepened. “… I’m not sure I understand all that you’re talking about with this ‘Force’ stuff, but I still don’t think that’s how it works.”  
  
At that, she did laugh. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. And then returned the soberness and faint grief. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re tied to my Ben. I can’t sense the future, but I can tell you’re going to have an impact on him. I have hope that you’ll bring him back to the Light, where he belongs.”  
  
A sudden weight fell on your shoulders, and you sighed. “But I can’t make him change, ma’am. Things like that have to start with the individual first. He has to want to change before I could even think of providing some kind of guidance back to his path.”  
  
“Please, call me Leia,” she murmured, brightening up considerably. “And that is why I have hope that you’ll be the one to bring him back. Forcing him to change is ultimately what drove him away, what made him feel like he had something to prove. Just by being yourself, I’m hoping that you can show him the path back to the Light, and then, seeing you, feel the need to become the man the galaxy needs – who you need.”  
  
At your inquiring look, she clarified, “Force bonds are nothing to sneeze at, sweetie. Fragile as yours is, you still need each other. And I speak from experience when I say that people will do crazy things for love.”  
  
“Love?!” you squeaked. “I haven’t even met him yet!”  
  
She laughed again, and you realized that at the same time that she was both beautiful and kind, she was fading from your mind. “Well, maybe not love, yet. It’s a bit early for that. But can you blame a mother for trying? I do want grandbabies eventually – even if I have to watch over them from the other side.”  
  
Your face twisted in embarrassment and you shied away. “We’ll see. I make no promises.”  
  
“Being yourself, your best self, is all I could ask for,” she smiled. “Set the example for him to follow, my dear. Sometimes it takes a gentle soul like your own to make a stubborn man like my son see that the way back home isn’t as terrible as he thinks… I have to go now – you’re about to wake up. Just remember to be yourself, and the Force will be with you…”  
  
She caught you in a warm, gentle hug as the dream began to fade.  
  
And you awoke more confused than ever.  
  
With a groan, you drew over to the bedroom windows, casting aside the curtains to listen more closely to the words of the panicked cries outside your home.  
  
“It’s the First Order!”  
  
“Do we run? CAN we run?!”  
  
“The Resistance! How do we contact the Resistance?!”  
  
One of your neighbors spotted you and ran over, informing you breathlessly and with mild panic that the First Order had arrived on your planet, and were currently speaking with the ruling government. Whispers of surrender or death. Rumors of compliance with an alliance or destruction.  
  
In the distance, you spotted a black ship – shaped vaguely like a predatory bird – landing close to the Capitol. A shiver ran down your spine. You knew something bad was going to happen.  
  
_**“Please, bring him home…”**_  
  
You took a deep breath. And nodded.  
  
  
  
“Trust in myself… Trust in the Force…” you muttered. “… What even _is_ the Force?!”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first foray into the Star Wars fandom, so please be kind. And, naturally, this is written well before the release of Episode VIII, so let’s take that into account as well, okay? Following is an updated version of the original description:
> 
> As I stated in the summary, I wrote this in honor of our beloved Space Princess-General. Since I was new to the fandom, I realize that her death didn’t hit me quite as hard as it did for others, but I still became upset, and this was mostly written as catharsis.   
> Also, sassy mom Leia is too good to pass up.
> 
> Let me just state that the premise I have going on here is that Reader is Force sensitive, much like Leia was. Not particularly powerful, but strong enough to know things, to sense things. And since Leia wasn't a Jedi or trained in the Force like a Jedi, she wouldn't have been able to come back as a Force ghost, which is why she appears to Reader in her dream instead, her spirit lingering just long enough to pass on her message. (Again, this was written before Ep VIII, and I haven't read any extra materials that fully explore the idea. I was just making stuff up!)
> 
>  
> 
> Now let me apologize to the readers who were expecting Kylo to have a stronger presence in the fic. I did have a small warning there in the tags, but I couldn't convince myself to give too much away. This is a mostly Leia-centric fic to honor Carrie Fisher, and I won't change that for anything.


End file.
